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"riprap (rip'·rap') to construct with or strengthen by stones, either loose or fastened with mortar" The Random House Dictionary of the English Language The Unabridged Edition 1966
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"riprap (rip'·rap') to construct with or strengthen by stones, either loose or fastened with mortar" The Random House Dictionary of the English Language The Unabridged Edition 1966
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Writing is only half the battle. Know how to market yourself properly and professionally. 2003 Novel and Short Story Writer's Market: 1,900+ Places to Get Your Fiction into Print by Anne Bowling, et al.
Great resource! The Power of the Playwright's Vision: Blueprints for the Working Writer by Gordon Farrell
How to express your vision on the stage - potent and effective structures Making a Good Writer Great: a Creativity Workbooks for Screenwriters by Linda Seger, Silman-James Press
Linda Seger has written numerous how-to books for writers. Economically priced. Creating Unforgettable Characters also written by Linda Seger
Stories that sell require unforgettable characters Writing Screenplays That Sell, by Michael Hauge
Add to your arsenal! On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King.
An autobiography and a tough-love lesson for aspiring novelists Business and Legal Forms for Authors and Self Publishers by Tad Crawford
Includes 20 ready to use forms, negotiation checklists, extra tear out forms and a CD Rom. The Art and Craft of Playwriting
One of my favorites! Stage Writer's Handbook
Understand the business aspect of your dreams! Writer's Guide to Book Editors, Publishers, and Literary Agents now in its 12th year.
This one-of-a-kind reference shows writers how to get the attention of the people they need to become published. A must have for any writer. Write the Perfect Book Proposal revised edition by Jeff Herman and Deborah Levine Herman
An updated edition of the definitive guide to crafting a book proposal that sells. 2003 Writer's Market 8,000 Editors Who Buy What You Write
A MUST have! Know the market! 2003 Children's Writers & Illustrators Market
Perfect for Childrens Writers! I'll say it again - Know Your Market! 2003 Writer's Market Online
An Internet version, with CD Rom obviously another MUST have! The Elements of Style
Written by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White. A necessary guide for all writers. The Screenwriter's Bible: A Complete guide to Writing, Formatting, and Selling Your Script
Formatting and style of submitting and marketing... Art of Dramatic Writing
For many years, Lajos Egri's book has been a well-guarded secret ...it ... remains an essential text Painless Grammar
Written by Rebecca Elliott, Ph.D. For sixth to eighth grades or adults who forgot. Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting
Written by Robert McKee How to Write a Selling Screenplay
From developing the story to finding the best agent. Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting
Syd Field is for novices and pros. How Not to Write a Screenplay!
Don't let mistakes hold you back! The Complete Guide to Script Formats
A reference book on script formats to use again and again. Grammar Smart
Know the basics! Copyright Handbook
Ignorance is not an excuse! Movies In The Mind:
How To Build A Short Story Comedy Writing Step by Step 
Written by Gene Perret with a foreword by Carol Burnett How to Write for Television
Written by Madeline DiMaggio |
Coffee-zine Scene!
Volume IV, Issue 1 - September 1, 2003Table of ContentsEditor's Note Featured Article Poetry Life Trail, by Barry M. Putt, Jr. Book Of The Month Shopaholic Ties The Knot Don't forget Potpourri, if you have a question about acting, video or film, email your questions to us at questions@riprapentertain.com. Answers will be posted on our Potpourri page. Editor's NoteWhy worry? Why do we worry? I ask this question often because I'm a worrier. I have been told that this habit is a result of being a perfectionist as if that's a compliment. But I don't like it. What moves us to worry? The biggest reassurance that I have ever received tempting me NOT to worry was that the act of worrying is a slap in the face of God. If you trust in him or a higher power, you needn't worry. OK, fine, but everyone doesn't believe in God. So what do you do in order not to worry? Eat chocolate? Drink? Party too late? I think worrying comes from fear and procrastination. The best advice I can give about worrying is that it's completely unproductive and a total waste of time. That's redundant. Get it? If you find yourself worrying, break the habit by creating a new one to put in its place. Pick up a book, read the newspaper, jog in place or clean the bathroom. A few short months ago, I was waking up regularly at night with worry. So I placed my favorite book beside my bed and forced myself to read it every time I woke up. Reading put me back to sleep. Don't let your fears paralyze you. Life is an enjoyable ride if you let it flow without too much interference. Chart your path with inner faith and conviction, then let it flow with joy!
Sandy SaysSandy says "lighten up!" Don't take things so seriously. Life is more fun when you're smilin'! You know a laugh a day will keep the doctor away - oh, that was an apple a day. Oh well, still works. Don't stop believin'!
Call for SubmissionsWriters we're waiting for your submissions. The Coffee-zine Scene can only exist if there's something to publish. Make my job easier by submitting short stories, poems or articles for payment. It is, I admit, small payment but isn't being paid anything a part of being a pro? The number of Coffee-zine scenes published each year depends upon your submissions. We would truly love to publish the Coffee-zine Scene monthly, but that is up to you. So, send in your work and remember - you always retain your copyrights. Click HERE for submission guidelines.
The Offering A Play in Two ActsA woman knows. Or does she? When strangers intrude for no rhyme or reason, and you're baffled by your long time husband - - a woman knows. Yet, you're left questioning who you are and where you're going when learning the truth about your man's past. In the throes of passion, you recognize this strange new place as one you've always known, but one that your innocence blinded you from seeing. Or did it? Tickets are being presold now for this gripping two act stage play The Offering at Riprap Studio Theatre on Lankershim Boulevard, opening October 1, 2003. Seating is limited, order your tickets NOW! Preview Program.
On The Air!I haven't had this much fun in a long time! On the Air is for anyone willing to record and submit the audition copy that we make available each month. The voice that we like and select will be paid $100 and we'll start all over again. You will have to record your audition on your own. We provide the copy. As with everything, we offer on our web site, you do not have to buy anything. I repeat, you do not have to buy anything to submit. Come have fun and audition for On The Air! If you don't wish to audition, then please listen to others and vote for them as the audience favorite. C'mon in, a little fun never hurt anyone. Voice-over artists must submit and audition for Riprap Entertainment according to our guidelines at www.riprapentertain.com/take1.html for an opportunity to win $100 each month. Me and my creative team will select an artist each month to represent Riprap Writers' Playhouse and anyone may vote on an audience favorite. So even if we don't select you this month, not only may you audition again, but you might be the audience favorite. So it's fun for everyone and everyone may participate! Vote at www.riprapentertain.com/vote.html
Screenwriters Post for FREEFor a limited time, you may post your log line on our web site to promote your screenplay at no charge. You may only post one and I suggest that the log line you post pertain to a completed screenplay. Why should you post? Because we're getting ready to celebrate our fifth birthday of our company and our web site and the second birthday of our studio theatre. So, the push is on to promote writers, actors and filmmakers. When agents and producers come to our site, it would be beneficial for you to be there. That is, of course, unless you don't need promotion. You may have the next Gone With the Wind in your drawer, but who's gonna' know. C'mon', let's get public.
Breaking Into Voiceover! Plain and Simple, the Best Place to Start - only $29.95 and includes a FREE membershipAnnouncing the double CD set Breaking Into Voiceover! Plain and Simple, the Best Place to Start also available as a download PDF book version for only $7.95.
Coffee Break - Featured ArticleHow the Elephants, Dragons and Giraffes Got Their Colorby Ana RipkaDon't be fooled by the simplicity of Ana's story and dismiss this as a mere child's tale. I chose this short story because I feel that it is a melancholy allegory of what we are seeing in the wars of the world today. Be careful what you wish for. I THE ELEPHANTS Long, long time ago, in ancient India, the first elephants were born. They came from the Ocean of Milk and had white skin with pink spots. More surprising was that they had wings and no one could stop them from flying to the farthest reaches of the horizon. Once upon a time, a flock of four elephants was perched high up on the branches of a huge tree. In the shadows of this large tree lurked a wise old hermit, who at that very moment was preaching to several of his disciples. The playful elephants, which were constantly fidgeting and roaring, did not pay attention to this sermon and did not respect the hermit's sacred moment. Suddenly, the branches broke beneath their weight, and the elephants fell straight into the disciples' lair. Full of dust and leaves from head to toe, the wise old hermit rose to his feet and cast a spell upon the restless winged animals. "Cursed be you, ungrateful foolish creatures, so that you will lose your wings and neither you nor your offspring ever be able again to soar to the stars!" Immediately after casting the curse, the wise old hermit disappeared into the forest to look for a quieter place to hold his sermon. The four elephants remained lying on the forest floor, weeping and crying. "I fell really hard!" whimpered the first elephant. "All the bones in my body hurt", sighed the second elephant. "I think I broke my trunk", said the third, trying to lift it in the air. "Stop all this sniveling", interrupted the fourth elephant, "let's just lift our wings and fly away". "Really. Our wings? What wings? The ones lying there on the ground?" asked the first three. At that moment, the fourth also noticed that their wings had been mysteriously plucked from their backs and were lying in the dirt, beside them. "Oh dear, we won't ever be able to fly again! That hermit really did curse us!" "Stop all this sniveling, stop all this sniveling ...blah!" mocked the first elephant. The fourth elephant desperately tried to keep himself composed and remarked that at least they hadn't lost the amazing color they were adored for. They remained there quiet for a while, until the blazing sun rose high in the sky. "This heat is killing me!" said the second elephant, gasping for air. "When we flew, the air currents kept us from feeling the heat of the sun", remarked the third with tears in his eyes. "I feel like I'm burning up!" yelled the first. "Keep cool", stated the fourth. "Let's see what we can do before we turn into elephant steaks." "I have an idea", said the first. "Let's use the wings as fans", and picking the fallen wing off the forest floor with the tip of his trunk, the elephant did just that. The others imitated him, but it was useless! The sun shined hotter and hotter and the elephants became sadder and sadder. "Let's go find the hermit", said the second elephant. "Let's get down on our trunks and knees and ask him to forgive us." "So that we can fly again", sniveled the first. "OK, but first we have to find a lake to bathe in and cool off, before we turn into ashes", remarked the fourth elephant. With all the effort they could muster, the four elephants cried and crawled on all fours to a nearby lake. "Water, water!" they wept as they placed their heated oversized bodies in the clear pool. Suddenly, a crackling sound broke the momentary silence and the four elephants jumped out of the water. "This can't be true!" the third elephant exclaimed. "Instead of cooling us off, the water filled our nice, smooth skin with painful blisters." "Ouch, ouch, ouch!" cried the four-legged creatures. "My poor pink spots", sighed the first. "My precious skin!" wept the second. "I was so proud of my color", uttered the third. "Now, it's all a painful curse!" yelled the fourth. "What are we going to do?" asked the first three elephants in despair. "We will have to do as the other earthly creatures do to protect our skin from the sunlight and we will have to roll in the mud and dust", answered the fourth. "NO!" said the first three, scared out of their wits. "What color will we be after that? Oh, we don't even dare to imagine!" "Well, it's not about skin color but rather about the survival of our species", said the fourth, as he rolled in the dirt until his whole body was covered in dust. Seeing this, the others did the same, as there was no other solution to their problem. From this day on, the elephants were gray. They never did find the wise old hermit to ask for forgiveness and they never got back their wings. It was for this and for their newly acquired color that they became filled with shame. The elephants were no longer the same sweet creatures of the past and they lost all of their admirers. In order to compensate for this tremendous loss, the elephants tried hard to become wise themselves ...and time has proven that they have succeeded in doing so. II THE DRAGONS The dragon's realm was just a little further north from the place where the elephants were born. These dragons had unimaginable supernatural powers. They could fly faster than the speed of light; they protected treasures and could easily defeat any earthly or alien creature. Apart from all of this, they were also beautifully colored in red, yellow and green. One day, these dragons woke up with the sudden urge to be colored blue. Therefore, they sought after a paperback writer to come to their aid. Thus, a Petition was soon drawn up for the Emperor, asking for the dragons to be painted in royal blue. The answer came immediately. The official letter read: "A virtuous creature may not obtain too many riches". The dragons were furious, so they hired a scholar to represent them. This time, the plea was met with the following words: "Don't wish for more than you can handle". The dragons were speechless. Their hopes and dreams could not be halted by a mere Emperor! The third letter was written by a diplomat of a noble nature. The dragons were humbled in his presence, as he had a highly pious stature in his robe of golden silk, crowned with a coral beret. "Thus, we have to petition the Emperor. Subject: the color Blue", thought the noble diplomat aloud. "Yes, your Nobleness!" uttered the dragons in a timid voice. The diplomat's eyes stood fixed upon the white sheet of paper, which lay on the table in front of him for a very long time. Then, suddenly, he started writing, thinking aloud as though he were speaking in tongues: "I will use sweet words and cite sentimental poetry on the subject: ...blue mountains, ...sea blue, ...clear blue skies... and I will address His Royal Highness as being the Son of the Sky." At this point, the diplomat started screaming at the top of his voice: "this will be a true masterpiece, which will soften even the most impenetrable heart!" The dragons retreated outside, in the garden, where they started dancing and singing like little children: "We will soon be blue, we will soon be blue!" When the answer came back from the Emperor, the diplomat himself read it aloud. It said: "Too many provisions, too much luggage." The dragons yelled in despair: "This cannot be true! What does he want to say with all these metaphors?" The diplomat thought to himself, then answered: "You cannot wish for more than you have, especially if you have enough." The dragons decided they would personally confront the Emperor. "We want to be blue!" they cried from the moment they set foot in the Throne hall. The Emperor's frown however made them continue on a softer tone: "Please, please, please!" "But I do not understand why?" said the Emperor, scratching his forehead. "Your colors are so glorious, that they have inspired painters and poets alike. Everybody admires you! So ...why the color Blue?" The dragons did not know what to say. "When I look at the deep blue sky, I sigh, like a poet", answered a green dragon. "I cry", replied an ashamed red dragon. "I start to daydream and hiccup", added a yellow dragon. Then they all spoke together: "This is exactly the same way we want to be seen by the rest of the world." "The sky you say", said the saddened Emperor. "Then let it be so - but with one condition: if you so much adore the color of the sky, then you shall never be able to detach yourselves from it. You will always fly between the clouds and the sky and you will only find solace on the highest mountain tops and in the deepest hidden caves!" This is how the dragons became blue. If they were happy, or not, nobody will ever know, because they were never seen again! This is of course of no surprise, as they were just as blue as the sky. III THE GIRAFFES Further away from the land, which used to be roamed by the dragons lay a region where only wild creatures lived. This was the same place where the giraffes lived. At the time they were created the color of their skin and fur was completely green. There were only two of them and they were a pair. These creatures looked like two long and fragile beanstalks. Because both were extremely timid, they would stick together all day long. At night, they interwove their necks so they never felt lonely. One day, walking through the dense jungle, they were surprised by the power they could have because of their natural camouflage - the color of their skin! It was lunchtime and both had their long necks fully extended in order to be able to eat the freshest leaves from the tallest treetops. "Does your neck hurt again?" asked the boy giraffe, as he heard his mate clearing her throat. "That's right. Oh I wish my neck wouldn't be so long!" replied the girl giraffe. "Eat the fruit of this tree", said the boy giraffe, pointing with his nose to the top of his tree. "Chew and let the juices from the fruit slowly pour down your neck." The two traded treetops and continued their feast, while being attentive at the various strange noises that surrounded them. "I feel so weak", said the girl giraffe. "Do as I say so the pain will go away quickly", answered the boy giraffe. "With or without the ache in my neck, I still feel very weak. Sometimes when the wind blows a little harder I feel as though my neck will break in two." "Maybe that's how Mother Nature intended us to be: delicate and unable to protect ourselves", thought the boy giraffe aloud. While the two continued to pick the leaves with their feeble jaws, two lousy monkeys were jumping from limb to limb, playfully screeching and making their way ever closer to where the giraffes were eating. At one point, the inevitable happened and the monkeys grabbed on to the giraffes necks, thinking that they were ordinary tree limbs. The giraffes made a short jerking motion and sent the monkeys tumbling down to the ground. Scared, the small apes ran as fast as they could into the bushes to catch their breath. Both giraffes were bewildered at what the monkeys wanted to do and they couldn't figure out why on earth they grabbed on to their necks? Suddenly, the boy giraffe had an idea. "Go stand in front of a green tree", he asked the girl giraffe. He carefully studied her shade of green with that of the tree's and came to a startling conclusion: she was just as green as the tree itself and it was impossible to distinguish the two! "We are practically invisible!" laughed both the giraffes. Soon, they continued their meal, perhaps a little less stressed than before. The monkeys tried to climb the giraffe necks two more times, thinking they were ordinary tree limbs - but to no avail. Every time they were hurled to the ground with a larger force than before. "My, how stupid these monkeys are", laughed the giraffes. "No, they are not stupid. We are smarter!" said the girl giraffe, straightening her neck with unusual importance. "We can't let them eat the fruit from our trees!" "That would really make me angry!" said the boy giraffe. "We are the only ones who should be allowed to feed from these trees; they belong to us!" Then, staring out into the horizon, he boldly declared: "These and any other green trees we may want to call our own!" The girl giraffe was very pleased with what she was hearing. Caught in a daydream, she added: "You are absolutely right! We are rulers of all these trees. We rule!" More and more sure of themselves, both of the long-necked creatures continued to feed from the fruit-bearing trees. They stopped being scared of all the insignificant sounds of the jungle; they stopped being careful of where they went and what they did - and soon they found themselves standing next to a lion! The lion stretched itself by the boy giraffe's legs and laid down for an afternoon nap. The giraffes stood petrified for a few moments and even held their breath in horror. Seeing that the lion hadn't noticed them at all, the boy giraffe mustered up all his courage and gave him one swift blow with his hooves. The King of the jungle had such a fright that he ran away in terror. "You are so courageous!" exclaimed the girl giraffe, her heart pounding rapidly. "I just took advantage of the color of my skin. No one sees us anyway", proudly replied the boy giraffe. A few hours later, a leopard appeared and lay down next to the girl giraffe. He hadn't sensed the presence of the two giraffes either. He clipped his fingernails for a while, then yawned loudly. Suddenly, as he was about to fall asleep, the girl giraffe hit him so hard with her hooves that the leopard jumped in leaps and bounds, yelping and howling for his life. "So, what do you think of that?" asked the girl giraffe triumphantly. "Congratulations! Never be afraid of protecting your property", replied the boy giraffe. They stood there for a while, contemplating on their victories and continued to eat tactfully and calmly. Meanwhile, the monkeys kept thinking about the two trees that they could not climb up on without hurting themselves. Time passed as they scratched themselves, and thought, and scratched some more, until finally, the only answer they could find was that evil ghosts haunted the two trees. Therefore, they decided to rid the jungle of these bad spirits by throwing dry clay at them. "Oh, what fun this is going to be! What fun!" sang the monkeys, puckering their lips and slapping their heads in joy. They approached the two mysterious trees and from the shrubbery nearby, started throwing gobs of clay at them. Soon, a cloud of dust arose around the area where the two giraffes were standing. As the dust settled down, the two giraffes could clearly be seen standing in front of the other trees in the jungle. The clay had stuck permanently to their bodies and colored their soft fur in yellow and brown. As luck would have it, from this point on, these colors were handed down from the first generation of giraffes to the next ...and so on and so on... Otherwise, we would never have known that giraffes existed. Copyright (c) Ana Ripka ABOUT THE AUTHORAna Ripka is a playwright from a large town near Transylvania, Romania named Cluj. She has lived in Cluj her entire life. She also writes short stories. Ana has been published regularly in Romanian literary magazines since 1990. She has received several awards and nominations in her country for her writing skills. Ana's plays for children have all been broadcast by the Romanian National Broadcasting Studio. The form of many of her children's stories is for children with a message for adults.
PoetryPOOR OLD NELLby Edward RobinsonNow poor old Nell, she up and died But she complained it wasn't fair So with cries of fear and disbelief The barman thought he'd have a coke Some bloody fool he dropped the lid Now as it was a bitter day The fool in question, was the Staff So here's to Nell who finally died Copyright (c) Edward Robinson of Northern Ireland
Edward Robinson is a "new" writer and submitted to Riprap Writers' Playhouse last year. He has written several short stories and quite a few poems. We hope to hear more from Edward in the near future.
LIFE TRAILby Barry M. Putt, Jr.
Copyright (c) 2001, by Barry M. Putt, Jr., All Rights Reserved Barry M. Putt, Jr., an award winning writer, has written stage, screen, and radio plays as well as poetry. His productions have been showcased Off-Broadway and in regional theater. In 1997, Barry was selected as the sole playwright intern for the regional theater company New Jersey Shakespeare Festival. This led to the development and production of his one-act play Interpretations, which focuses on the abuse of a deaf woman in the corporate world. The play was subsequently showcased at NYC's Theatre-Studio, Inc. In 2002, I-Vu Pictures commissioned Barry to write Temple of the Tiger a mystic adventure screenplay set in the man-eating tiger region of Sundarbans, India. It will be filmed on location for U.S. release. Other productions of his work include the farce Mother of the Year performed at the Theatre-Studio, Inc. and FirstStage of Hollywood. Barry's writing awards include: First place for Evil Awakened (by Barry M. Putt, Jr. & Ike Kaplan) in the BDR2000 New Millennium Screenplay Contest - 2001; the 1999 Riprap for Best Drama Film Short for his short film script A Light in the Dark; Third place for The Charmer in the BDR2000 New Millennium Screenplay Contest - 1999; and his children's story In the Middle won the 1998 New Jersey Wordsmith Competition. An intimate collection of Barry's poetry, which explores life through, humor, imagery, symbolism, and desire, has been released by Hungry Publishing, LLC. A member of organizations such as The Dramatists Guild Barry has been studying stage and screen writing on the private and college levels. He is a 2004 B.F.A. graduate candidate in the Dramatic Writing at N.Y.U. / Tisch School of the Arts.
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Miss T. FyyaFor more information about Miss T. Fyya, click here. Hunting Miss T. Fyya
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